RUSH

Rushes*Bulrush*

ROMEO

Let wantons light of heart

Tickle the senseless RUSHES

with their heels.

—Romeo and Juliet [Act I, sc. 4]

ROSALIND

He taught me how to know a man in love;

in which cage of RUSHES

I am sure you are not prisoner.

—As You Like It [Act III, sc. 2]

PHEBE

Lean but on a RUSH,

The cicatrice and capable impressure

Thy palm some moment keeps.

—As You Like It [Act III, sc. 5]

TITANIA

And never, since the middle summer’s spring,

Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,

By paved fountain or by RUSHY brook,

Or in the beached margent of the sea.

—A Midsummer Night’s Dream [Act II, sc. 1]

LAVATCH/CLOWN

As fit as Tib’s RUSH for Tom’s forefinger.

—All’s Well That Ends Well [Act II, sc. 2]

DROMIO OF SYRACUSE

Some devils ask but the parings of one’s nail,

A RUSH, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,

A nut, a cherry-stone.

—Comedy of Errors [Act IV, sc. 3]

BASTARD

A RUSH will be a beam

To hang thee on.

—King John [Act IV, sc. 3]

FIRST GROOM

More RUSHES, more RUSHES.

—Henry IV, Pt. 2 [Act V, sc. 5]

EROS

He’s walking in the garden—thus, and spurns

The RUSH that lies before him.

—Antony and Cleopatra [Act III, sc. 5]

OTHELLO

Man but a RUSH against Othello’s breast,

And he retires.

—Othello [Act V, sc. 2]

GRUMIO

Is supper ready, the house trimmed,

RUSHES strewed, cobwebs swept?

—Taming of the Shrew [Act IV, sc. 1]

KATHERINE

Be it moon or sun, or what you please,

And if you please to call it

a RUSH-CANDLE,

Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.

—Taming of the Shrew [Act IV, sc. 5]

GLENDOWER

She bids you on the wanton RUSHES

lay you down,

And rest your gentle head upon her lap.

—Henry IV, Pt. 1 [Act III, sc. 1]

MARCIUS

He that depends

Upon your favours swims with fins of lead

And hews down oaks with RUSHES.

—Coriolanus [Act I, sc. 1]

IACHIMO

Our Tarquin thus

Did softly press the RUSHES.

—Cymbeline [Act II, sc. 2]

FIRST SENATOR

Our gates

Which yet seem shut,

we have but pinn’d with RUSHES!

They’ll open of themselves.

—Coriolanus [Act I, sc. 4]

And being lighted, by the light he spies

Lucretia’s glove, wherein her needle sticks;

He takes it from the RUSHES where it lies.

—Lucrece

WOOER

Rings she made

Of RUSHES that grew by, and to ’em spoke

The prettiest posies.

—Two Noble Kinsmen [Act IV, sc. 1]

WOOER

Her careless tresses

A wreake of BULRUSH rounded.

—Two Noble Kinsmen [Act IV, sc. 1]